A few weeks ago, Malabarista provided us with a new Writing Challenge. Here is what she said:
'When you work in the office of an intergalactically recognised newspaper such as this, the strangest things keep turning up on your desk. So we weren't too worried when the following submission was beamed down to us from a distant star. Unfortunately, the hamster got to it before we could have a proper look, so all that's left is a single picture, and frankly, we have no idea what the heck it means.'
The assignment was to figure out what the picture below was about, and devise an accompanying text or picture to explain it.
MVP has zeroed in on the essence of this picture. It's an epic struggle, right? One which requires an epic treatment. I for one am in awe of this return to the Beowulfian past.– DG
The Beasts of Haywards Heath
In the hallowed halls of Haywards Heath
councillors conferred with grave concern.
Blood-sucking beasts from barbarous parts
marched many-legged and murderous
towards their town, with terrible intent.
One grey-beard gravely rose and gasped
"We need heroes to help us fight this horror,
send for Stan from our health and safety team.
He's read the rules on rats and rotten food;
he'll trounce the terror that stalks our town."
Stan set out in suit and tie and clipboard,
ready to risk the rampaging monsters.
When he spied the serried ranks of Cimicidae,
bed-bugs with their grotesque bulging bodies,
he flinched and fainted on the concrete floor.
But Mary the maid grabbed mop and bucket,
brought boiling water and bottles of cleaner,
went to wage remorseless war on insects:
scrubbing, sweeping and spilling water
until the broken bodies of bed-bugs
floated on a foaming lake across the floor.
She seized the senseless form of fainting Stan
took him to the town hall for tea and biscuits.
All Haywards Heath proclaimed their heroine.